Wish Upon a Star
by cathymalfoy
Summary: If you took the time to ask her, Petunia Dursley would say that she and Vernon were perfectly content living in their state of monotonous harmony. Indeed, she would say something of the sort. But would she really be telling the truth?
1. Wishes

Petunia and Vernon sat in the living room, watching the news. Ironically, it was the same thing they were doing the night before their nephew had arrived on their doorstep over thirty-five years ago. Now, they were expecting a new infant into their lives. Dudley had told them afternoon that his wife was pregnant and expecting delivery very soon. Petunia sensed the time coming. There was a tense silence that seemed only broken by Vernon coughing every minute or so after reading something he didn't approve of in the paper. The television set was turned on, but the sounds and pictures were distant, as if the television was very far away.

For seemingly the thousandth time, Vernon coughed again, and sniffed with disapproval. However, for the first time, he spoke. "Oh, not those silly nutters again! After all these years, that other Ministry, the one that regulates…those…wizards," Even after all these years, Vernon had trouble accepting the idea of wizards living amongst normal people like themselves. "They're making it into our papers again! Fireworks over at Charing Cross…there aren't any shops that would sell fireworks, and in the midst of pouring rain. Great big shocking pink Catherine wheels! No one could put them out…. they're traveling…someplace over London right now if they haven't run out of whatever they run on." Vernon's mustache fluttered like a pair of wings as he sniffed again. "It's got to be his lot… causing ruckus and disrupting the peace. No, they haven't changed a bit."

Petunia thought it wasn't without good reason that they were setting off fireworks. Just the other day, Harry had written a letter (thankfully not sent by owl) telling her that he had become head of a Ministry department…well, in the _other_ Ministry, of course. That would definitely be a cause for celebration. These days, Petunia and her nephew seemed to get along rather well. Mainly because they saw so little of each other these days, as Harry only came over once a year with his two children during the Christmas season. But Vernon didn't know about the letter. In fact, Vernon had refused to have anything to do with the other world once Harry left. He liked the quiet life. _He liked the quiet, normal, boring life_, in Petunia's opinion. She didn't have much respect for wizards either, but life seemed dull in comparison to when Harry lived with them. It was nice to have a little conflict break the monotony, even if it involved magic.

"Err…Vernon. Harry wrote a letter to me, and he said he's been promoted. Maybe that's why there're fireworks. Their lot is celebrating. Harry did say they would throw a party…and he even invited us. Of course, I turned him down, but…" Petunia felt so awkward. If she defended Harry, Vernon would become angry, and his blood pressure was awful enough without any help from his temper. However, if she didn't say anything, she knew she would regret her indifferent silence later on.

"Should be more subtle, then. And the mess they're creating! Half the shop owners are asking for compensation for their supposedly "ruined property"! With all the confusion that went on when the windows just _happened_ to repair themselves over night! I don't envy anyone in Parliament right now." Vernon grunted, still in the same disapproving tone.

Secretly, Petunia wished she were a witch. Then, she could do spells, be able to ride on broomsticks, and flash from place to place. Most importantly, she would not be stuck in a little suburban town where nothing ever changed and suffer the utterly pathetic existence of a housewife. Lily had been the one given the magical powers. Why only Lily? Why did she have to be the normal one?

Dumbledore had told her that her child had a possibility of being a witch or wizard. She held on to that dream for a while, but nothing ever came of it. Of course, there was an inkling of a chance that her grandson would be capable of magic. But, as Dudley was not a wizard in any sense, and cases of magic in non-magical families were so rare anyways, Petunia realized it would have been better if she had not known of the magical world at all. Knowing about it would only torment her; she could never ever become part of it.

It was all Lily's fault, all her parents' fault, everyone's fault but hers. Yes, it would have been better to be ignorant to magic, uninformed of the existence of real magic and magical people. Now it tortured her day and night. Chances were that Dudley's son or daughter would just be another…Muggle. Yes, in this instance, the wizards had created the best word to describe the situation, Petunia had to admit. Her grandson would just another Muggle child, who would grow up to marry a fellow Muggle, have Muggle children, and live the plain boring life of a Muggle. No true excitement whatsoever.

That night, before going to bed, Petunia sat in the bedroom and sighed, acknowledging her fate. Her destiny was to be another dime-a-dozen, mediocre, insignificant muggle. As she looked out the window, she saw a bright light making its path across the sky. Perhaps the work of a high-spirited wizard, but she was sure it was a shooting star. In a childish moment, Petunia remembered her mum telling her that when she wished upon a shooting star, the wish was more than likely to come true.

Perhaps just on impulse, or fueled with false hope and unreasonable despair, Petunia wished her grandchild, or grandchildren (Dudley didn't tell her too many details) would be magical. This would probably be the only way their grandfather would look past his prejudices. This would be the only way she could feel connected, even if rather distantly, to the world she could never be a part of. Of course, it would not allow her to do spells like those of the other world, but at least there was a chance that her internal monsters of jealousy, bitterness, and ingratitude, those demons that had haunted her thoughts and dreams for so many years, could at last be vanquished and quieted forever more.

This is my first fic, so it would be great if you offered constructive criticism. This chapter just sets up the story and starts off the plot, so naturally, it's shorter than the chapters to come. Read and review!


	2. Secrets

Dudley paced his office, his pace increasing and decreasing as he walked. His rather-peaky looking secretary looked nervous. She had tried to ask him why he was particularly short tempered, but Dudley acted as if she was not there at all. Now, she just tried to concentrate on taking calls and coming up with a reasonable answer on why the head of Grunnings Drill Co. was unable to attend any of his meetings and lunches and receptions and social obligations of any kind at the moment. Since Vernon's recent retirement, Dudley was now the head of the drill making business. The first few months at this new job were hectic and stressful, but now, as things settled down, and his employees learned to respect him, he found life boring. Unlike his father, Dudley did not yell to get people to work, so he had to deal with a rebellion of disgruntled cubicle workers who had grown tired of Vernon Dursley's constant threats.

Now that everything had calmed down, Dudley worried about something just as important: the birth of his son. In fact, Dudley had not told his mother it was a boy yet, so he had been writing a letter to her. Writing to his mother was not the problem though. Dudley also tried to write to Harry. The first couple of times Dudley had tried to find Harry's address in the phonebook, or in any of the letters Harry had sent to him, nothing could be identified. In fact, ever since Harry had walked out of Dudley's life the day before Harry's birthday, Dudley rarely saw Harry. Now, he felt foolish. Why had he failed to ask for so much as an address, or a phone number? This was the reason why he paced, added on the fact that his wife was at home right now, and the baby was due that very week! His secretary interrupted his mental monologue.

"Of course, ma'am, of course! But Mr. Dursley is rather, err…preoccupied at the moment." The secretary spoke anxiously into the phone, then held the phone a little farther away from her ear but almost dropped it in surprise, as the person on the other end seemed to be shouting loudly.

"I understand your need to speak with him, but he is unavailable at the moment, ma'am. Yes…I understand…" The secretary almost dropped the receiver as the voice shouted again. This time, the shout was so loud Dudley could hear it.

He turned around and looked at her incredulously. Who would lose their temper like that just to talk to him?

"Oh…I see. Well, pardon me, then. If you would just hold the line for a minute." The secretary spoke rather sheepishly. Then, she held her hand over the phone and said to her boss, "Mr. Dursley, it's…your mother."

Dudley looked at her. Why on earth would his mother call him at a time like this? She never called him when he was at work. His father had told her not to call when Dudley could potentially be having a conversation with a client, and she may be holding up the line. Still, he took the phone and said cautiously, "Good morning, mum."

"Honestly, Dudley! I thought your father could count on you to hire a proper secretary. To have the indecency to deny a mother a phone-call! I got a call from your wife. Congratulations! I'm going to have a grandson. Oh…I heard he's coming very soon. Tell mummy when he does, okay? I have tea with that new neighbor across the street in another ten minutes. I love you, and oh, please don't name the baby after Vernon. He obviously wants it, but I really do like the name Ronald, or maybe William…" Anyway, I won't occupy the phone line too long. Ta-ta!"

_Mum must be excited. Since when does she call herself Mummy? I guess Ronald's not too bad. I'll tell Millicent about it. _Dudley thought to himself.

Millicent Bulstrode Dursley sat in her house at Ottery St. Catchpole. She absentmindedly whipped out her wand and made the dishes wash themselves. It was a convenience of living in a half-Wizarding, half-Muggle village. No one really cared if you used magic, as long as the muggles didn't get too suspicious. She had married Dudley for a year, but had never gotten to telling him that she was a witch. Of course, there was a chance he had seen her when his family was picking up Harry off the Hogwarts Express, but he didn't seem to remember.

If she had married him while her parents were still alive, they would have disowned her. As part of a pureblood family, she was expected to marry someone from another pureblood family. But every boy from a pureblood family that she knew was a prat. Especially Warrington. She had been expected to learn to like Warrington and marry him, but she had no intention of doing so. When her parents went off to fight the Battle of Hogwarts as Death Eaters, and got themselves killed, she found it the perfect opportunity to seize her newly emerged freedom. It didn't really matter to her that her parents were dead. They weren't the nicest people in the world, being in with Voldemort and all. She was tired of all their prejudices. To put it simply, none of it ever made much sense to her.

In her seven years at Hogwarts, she continually wished she were not in Slytherin. And, she never really hung out with Pansy and her giggly, gossipy gang. Actually, she made most of her friends in Hufflepuff. Yes, it seemed that was the house for her, though the Sorting Hat had insisted on putting her in Slytherin because of her ancestry. What choice was there? She had no authority.

She had met Dudley when they were just out of school. She had purchased a Wizarding bookstore with the money inherited from her parents' fortune. Of course, the bookstore could also be seen by Muggles. As the store was in a village that was a residence for Muggles as well as wizards, the store sold both Muggle literature and Wizarding literature. Also, to hold her own against the other bookstores in the area, she sold fresh coffee to add to the cozy atmosphere, as well as butterbeer for any magical folk who came in.

Dudley had accidentally wandered into the bookstore. He was not particularly handsome, but as they talked, she found that he was rather charming and funny. He was not really interested in the books, but they had a nice talk over coffee. By the way he kept blushing when she looked into his eyes, she suspected that he fancied her.

He kept coming in for coffee, first monthly, then weekly, then daily. Soon, he came in on his way to work, during his lunch, and on his way home from work. Occasionally, he brought his parents. Not before long, they began dating. Just two years after Dudley wandered into the bookshop, lucky Miss Millie Bulstrode became Mrs. Millicent Dursley. She was very much in love with Dudley, and Dudley was very infatuated with her, but Millicent could not come to tell him her biggest secret. It might have been easier, if her father in law weren't so against magic. However, Vernon Dursley seemed to hate everything even slightly out of the ordinary. And so she held out.

She had known all along since her marriage that she would have to let them know at some point. She was about to have a baby, and it was not likely that the baby was going to be a squib. She decided to tell Petunia. After all, she was Harry Potter's aunt. Though, come to think of it, Dudley was Harry's cousin, but he didn't seem to have any particular feelings toward wizards. Still, woman's intuition told her it was more sensible to call Petunia first.

She walked to the phone, her anxious thoughts and rehearsed words filling her mind. Hopefully Petunia didn't mind her calling again. She dialed the numbers, her fingers shaking with every digit. The phone rang a couple of times, but no one answered. Petunia was at tea with the new neighbor. Politely, Millicent left a message telling Petunia to call at once then hung up. She would have to wait.

Suddenly, something happened inside of her. She seized the receiver again, punching in digits as fast as her fingers could go.


	3. Realization

Dudley had stopped pacing his office, and now sat at his desk, his face red from a mix of emotions, his hands firmly clasped on his desk. Perhaps this made the secretary more nervous, as she now felt the need to avoid his gaze and work with her eyes determinedly glued to her laptop. The phone rang again. Reacting on impulse, the secretary grabbed the receiver and spoke as politely as she could manage without revealing her annoyance at her boss.

"This is the office of Mr. Dudley Dursley. How may I—" She dropped the receiver as the woman on the other end screamed.

Dudley gave his distracted employee another incredulous look. This time it was certainly not his mother. But then a sudden realization dawned on him. It was time. The moment that had made him so anxious and difficult had finally arrived. He stood up so fast, the impeccably clean desk nearly flipped over, sending heavy books and a cup of coffee cascading to the floor. He didn't think, however, and sprinted to his secretary as fast as his rather-chubby legs could carry him.

The secretary was shaking. Her employer had finally lost his wits. She was too preoccupied to hear the woman on the other end. Dudley, however, wrenched the phone away from her and pressed it to his ear, despite the high volumes of the person on the other end.

Hearing Dudley's voice made Millicent shriek even louder. She seemed to be losing her nerve.

"I SWEAR, DUDLEY, GET A NEW SECRETARY!" Millicent's voice dropped down a couple decibels after this frustrated proclamation. "My water just broke. I've Flooed one of my friends and told her as well. The nearest hospital is a Muggle one, and I can't Apparate in my current state of being, so she's going to drive me there right now. I knew you should have taken this week off. If you're not there before the baby comes I vow I will personally hex you into oblivion!" And then she hung up.

In his state of panic, Dudley did not realize that almost everything she said was completely abnormal. But he told his secretary, rather too firmly, to clean up after him and explain his absence. Then, he ran through the halls to the elevator, and punched the "down" button until he reached the parking structures. When in his car, he flew to the nearest hospital to his house, trying to avoid policemen and traffic.

As he drove, his dear wife's words seemed to repeat themselves in his head. He vaguely remembered hearing the word "Apparate" and "Flooed" and "Muggle", though those weren't words at all. Now, he remembered farther back. He had heard those words before Millicent said them. Back when Harry was around…. And then came the sudden realization.

By the time he had figured out what his meant, he was rushing down the corridors of the hospital to the maternity ward. He could hear Millicent's nervous voice very close by. When he found the correct room, he pounded on the door. Millicent looked up from the hospital bed at him, gave him a meaningful look when she saw him pressed against the glass window in the door, then put her head down.

As he sat to catch his breath, thoughts streamed through his head. Millicent was a witch…she had threatened to hex him if he didn't come…Millicent was a witch…one of Harry's lot. And she didn't tell him for all this time. He thought he knew everything about her. But she had kept the biggest secret of all. He didn't know how to react. Part of him wanted to yell at Millie and ask her why she hadn't told him before they got married. Part of him was eager. Now that he was married to a witch, he would have to be exposed to more of the magical world, now that he knew the secret. What little of magic he had seen when living with his cousin made him hungry to know more. Maybe she could even teach him...

One summer, he had gotten up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and heard noises from Harry's room. When he peeked into the keyhole. He had seen Harry transfiguring a rat in to a teacup. At first the teacup still had a tail and brown coloring, but he became more and more successful, until his rat could be morphed into a fine china cup with a gilded saucer and painted flowers around the rim. It fascinated him.

The baby had come. Millicent was sweaty and redfaced inside her room, and the nurses were carrying out the newborn boy to clean him up. Dudley rushed in.

"Millie…are you…a witch?" Dudley seemed to have a lot of trouble expressing his thoughts.

Dudley's facial expression worried Millicent. She responded, her tone was pleading and apologetic, "I should have told you earlier. I'm a witch. Our baby boy is a wizard. He's going to have to be sent to a magical school…"

Dudley's face went from pale as a sheet, to the same shade of rum that Vernon turned when he was angry.

"I'm sorry, I just…couldn't tell you. I didn't think you would understand. You have a right to be mad, but…we have a child to care for. We've been married for a year. It shouldn't be too big of a deal, right?" She looked on the verge of tears.

"And you think I'll understand now? This is a huge deal! This boy is part one of…your lot! He's going to be doing…spells and keeping a pet owl…and wearing black robes…and pointy hats…and run around with a little magic stick all the time!" Millicent could almost see the cogs working furiously in her husband's head.

"And…he's supposed to inherit the family business…and my dad absolutely hates wizards…what's he going to say if he finds out my son is…one of their lot?"

"That's EXACTLY why I was afraid to tell you…because of your father…I knew you would take it hard, but…you would know eventually, since we were going to get married…and have children." Millicent burst into tears. Normally, she would have looked directly into Dudley's eyes and have known exactly what to say. But it seemed that when she was pregnant, her emotions were often out of her control. And so came the waterworks.

Dudley had no idea what to do. One part of his brain wondered if he would have married her if he knew she was a witch. One part told him to try to understand, and that he loved Millicent for her personality and wits, and her being a witch didn't make her a bad person to spend the rest of his life with. His feet seemed to respond for him. He walked out of the room, out of the hospital, into the parking area, to his car, and he drove away. His ear seemed to tune out to Millicent's shouts for him to come back…the nurses' surprised questions and whispers…the doctors calling after him as he walked away from his sobbing wife and newborn son.

He headed for his mother's house. She would probably know what to do. Yes, it was the great thing about mums, they were women, so they always knew how to deal with women, and they loved you no matter what. Yes, they loved you no matter what...hopefully. Dudley honestly wasn't sure how his mother would do.

* * *

Petunia walked across the street after waving goodbye to the new addition to the neighborhood, and was nearly hit by her son's car as it halted to a stop right in front of her house.

Dudley was supposed to be at work! And why on earth would he come to his parents' house on a workday? Unless….it had something to do with Millicent. Did she have her baby? Was she going to have her baby? Why was Dudley's face that frightening, yet too-familiar, shade of currant?

"Diddy, what's wrong? Did something happen? Why are you here? Tell mummy everything!" Petunia clutched her son's shoulders and looked at him anxiously.

"Mum…I just found out that Millicent is…a witch. She just had the baby. My son's a wizard." Dudley turned beet red now.

Petunia could barely hide her mixed surprise and excitement. "Well, where is she now? Is she in the car, with my grandson? Why did you drive so fast if the baby was---"

"I didn't know what to do. She's still at the hospital right now."

"WHAT? YOU JUST LEFT HER THERE? Dudley! That's no way to treat a lady!"

"I didn't know what I was supposed to do after I found out."

"Well, you're MARRIED! Your father's not going to like this, but you married her because you love her. That's no way to show it, to just leave her at the hospital all by herself!!"

"She didn't tell me before we were married! She's kept it from me for a year!!!"

"So what??? It's not like she told you she was cheating on you! That would be another story. You're supposed to be SUPPORTIVE! You're more like your father than I thought. No more tact than a teacup when it comes to girls. What were you thinking??? But of course, you weren't thinking. Honestly…."

Petunia firmly shoved her son into the passenger's seat of the car, got in next to him, and jammed her foot on the accelerator. Dudley didn't know what to think.

* * *

At the hospital, Millicent was sobbing harder than ever. She prayed that Dudley wasn't going to file for divorce just because of this. Right now, it seemed more than likely, the way he just ran off like that. The nurses were still whispering and talking amongst themselves.

All of a sudden, Petunia rushed into the room, Dudley, looking very sheepish, right behind her. "Oh, darling. Dudley didn't mean anything he said. He's more tactless than his father. No more charm than a teacup. He's very sorry." Petunia said anxiously as she handed Millicent a handkerchief.

"He went to your house? He told you?" Of all the places Dudley would go, he had gone back to his childhood home.

"Yes, and thank goodness too. I wouldn't want to know where else he had wanted to go. Yes. He told me. Congratulations on the birth. I hope it went well. So my grandson's a wizard?"

"I think so. Though, there are chances that magical folk can have nonmagical children. But that's very unlikely." Millicent was relieved that Petunia was accepting of the news. All of a sudden, there was a giggle coming from the nurses holding the newborn baby. A doctor came in, a wide, bewildered smile on his face. He had been observing Dudley going back and forth with mixed feelings.

"Mrs. Dursley, your child is all yours. But of course, we'll expect to be caring for him a little longer, as you are currently occupied?

Millicent laughed. "If it's too much trouble for you, would you like to hand him over to his mother?"

"Of course, Mrs. Dursley. Good day to you, then…Mrs. Dursley and, err…" The doctor paused as he looked at Petunia.

"I'm the mother in law. Also Mrs. Dursley, if you don't mind." Petunia smiled good-naturedly.

"Of course." And the doctor walked away, closing the door behind him. The nurses were dismissed. Now, only Petunia, Dudley, and Millicent were left in the sterile room. Finally, Dudley walked forward.

"Look, Mil, it's my fault. I had no idea…I wasn't expecting this. I'm happy that our baby's a wizard. I was always a little jealous of Harry. Well, more than a little jealous actually. Anyway, I'm sorry I made you all upset." He had trouble looking into her eyes, and slightly resembled a shy schoolboy, but Millicent knew he meant every word. But once again, her prenatal hormones caused her to burst into tears.

"For one moment…I thought you were going to walk out of my life and leave me to take care of the baby all on my own." She sobbed again.

For one of the first times in his life, Dudley genuinely felt remorse for his actions. He sat down on the edge of the bed, so he could be closer to Millicent, and kissed her softly on the cheek, putting a lot of love into the act.

"What are we going to name him?" Millicent asked softly. In all the rushing around and drama, they had never mentioned a good name for their son.

"How about Ronald?" Dudley asked hopefully, as he decided he did like that name very much.

"Sounds good to me." Now that she thought about it, Dudley could have named the boy after his father if he wanted. She didn't really care. Dudley was staying...he loved her...he loved the baby...he was staying...All was well. Little Ron was sleeping in her lap, innocent and angelic.

"Does Harry know about this? I'm sure he'd be happy to know his nephew's a wizard." Dudley said to his mother.

"I'd love to let him know. Did he ever give us his address?" Petunia asked.

"I don't think we Muggles are allowed to know where wizards live." Mother and son turned toward Millicent, causing her to jump.

"I'm not sure you can use the Floo Network, but we can try." Millicent told them.

"What about Vernon?" Petunia suddenly thought of her husband. The three of them exchanged worried glances. It was known that Vernon hated anything out of the ordinary.

"I think you'd better stay at the hospital when we break the news to him, Millicent. He tends to throw things and yells when he's angry." Petunia spoke as if she were announcing a battle plan for a war.

"I can Floo Harry and tell him to come and help if you want. He'll see the baby anyway, right?" Millicent's friend turned out to be none other than Susan Bones, who peeked her head in to see what was happening.

"That would be appreciated. You better apparate back to a wizarding house to do it then." Millicent instructed.

"All right then." Susan disappeared into thin air with a pop.

"Um, what exactly is the Floo Network again?" Dudley asked hesitantly.

"Oh, it's a way to travel by fire. You simply drop Floo powder into a fireplace, which makes it safe to walk into, then call out your destination fireplace, and you'll be whizzed off to where you want to go." Millicent explained with an almost motherly patience. Petunia and Dudley had a lot to learn.


	4. Confusion

The Weasley residence had seemed to near its occupancy maximum several times, but now, it seemed that the breaking point had finally been established. A violin, cello, and several other instruments were flying around the house twelve feet above the ground and playing on their own accord. Fred and George had developed them, but George didn't feel up to releasing them in the shop just yet, it troubled him that his partner would never see the success or unlikely failure of any product they had been working on.

Today, however, no one dwelled on that. Harry was the head of the Auror Department. It was only appropriate to celebrate. People were waltzing in the garden to the music of the flying musical instruments. Hagrid and Madame Maxim were among them, ducking to avoid their soaring serenaders every few minutes. Arthur Weasley was having an animated conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who looked rather bewildered at his fascination with plugs. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were chatting merrily in the midst of a group of old Hogwarts schoolmates. Bill, who now spoke impeccable French, was talking to Mr. Delacour over a glass of chilled champagne. All was well.

* * *

Susan Bones realized she didn't know where Dudley's cousin would be at the moment. Hesitant, she shouted, "Harry Potter" as she dropped a handful of silvery Floo Powder into the fireplace. In a moment, she was whizzed off.

Her destination was cozy, crowded, and seemingly filled with merrymakers. She vaguely recalled being invited by Harry to some sort of celebration, but she knew she had a specific purpose here. She walked toward Harry and began talking to him when he noticed her and greeted her.

"Yes, congratulations Harry. I don't know if he's already told you yet, but Dudley's wife just gave birth…" Talking to Harry seemed to be surprisingly awkward.

Harry had no idea how to respond to his. How would Susan even know Dudley? He himself hadn't seen Dudley since last Christmas.

"Err…tell him congratulations for me, then."

"…And his son is a wizard." Susan finished dutifully.

"WHAT?!?!" _Now this was news_, Harry thought. Now he became even more confused. Dudley was one of the last people he would expect to have a Muggle-born wizard for a child.

"Yeah…he just found out his wife was a pureblood witch. Right when the baby was born, too. Caused a load of confusion, but your aunt seems to have come to terms with it. Problem is, your uncle has no idea."

Harry seemed to be lost for words to express his thoughts. To get a little more time to think, he said slowly, "So let me get this straight. Dudley now has a child, and the child is a half-blood wizard?"

"Yes. And Dudley wants you to help him reveal this to your uncle. He's supposed to have a nasty temper, and Dudley would have wanted to let you know anyways, seeing the situation involves magic..."

"Alright, I'll go. By the way, what's the baby's name?"

Just that moment, Ron and Hermione walked up to Harry and Susan.

"Ron." Susan said simply.

Ron looked a little bewildered. "Oh, hello, Susan. How've you been?"

"No, it's Ron, Harry."

"Yeah, I know who he is. We've been best mates since our first year. It's okay to let him in on this news. Now answer my question."

"Harry, the baby's name is Ronald. Ronald Dursley."

At this, Ron looked even more bewildered. "What's this about a baby? And the name Dursley sounds familiar…

"Ron, Harry's cousin's wife, who just revealed to Harry's cousin that she was a pureblood witch, gave birth. The baby is a half-blood wizard." Susan replied patiently.

"Oh…cool. What's the baby's name?"

"Ron."

"All right, fine. I won't ask too much about the top-secret workings of Harry's Muggle relatives. It's not a big deal to know what his name is. It's probably something like Harold, or he's named after his father or grandfather or something along those lines."

"No, Ron. The child's name is Ron." Susan couldn't help getting frustrated.

"Oh, drop it, already. I was just curious. Harry's cousin's kid would be a one of my dear relatives, so I thought I had a right to know. I'll just have to accept that these people are overly secretive."

"Ron, I wasn't being sarcastic. The child's name _**is**_ Ron. That's what I've been trying to say all this time. Dudley's child's name is Ron, and he's a half-blood wizard. His Muggle grandfather doesn't know. Dudley wants Harry to help break it to him. Are we clear?"

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" Ron said, turning pink with embarrassment, as Hermione chuckled at the natural hilarity that came with the situation.

"That's what I_tried _to do. And Dudley's probably thinking that I've ditched them and gone off to party with the rest of you guys, so if you're going to help, you'd better come with me now. I think I've done all the explaining I need to do."

"I want to come too. It might help to have a Muggle-born witch around. I grew up with Muggles. I might have an easier time communicating. And since I'm also related, even if distantly and by marriage, I want to see the baby!", Hermione said eagerly, then made her tone a little more businesslike. "So if you don't mind, we should all change out of our dress robes and into Muggle clothes, so we look properly presentable. Is that alright with you, Susan?"

"That would be perfect, Hermione. Just try not to fuss too much. This is only to show that wizards aren't very much different from their lot. We only need to look like we always wear this sort of stuff, which is partially true, since most of the younger generations of magical folk prefer Muggle clothes anyways." Susan nodded her head slightly.

It was true. Since the downfall of the Dark side, tolerance of Muggles seemed to grow significantly. Unlike the time when Harry's generation was still at Hogwarts, magical folk had finally mastered the skill of dressing like their nonmagical neighbors. Now, only the most dimwitted wizards and witches dressed in ponchos and kilts and flowery nightgowns, like a surprising number of wizards did when England hosted the Quidditch World Cup.

In a little less than ten minutes, Ron, Harry, and Hermione went upstairs, then came downstairs wearing Muggle clothing. Hermione even brought what looked like a little blue sweater. Of course, she had knitted the sweater for her own son, but Hugo was only a month old and had enough hand-knitted sweaters, hats, and booties to equip the maternity ward of St. Mungo's for weeks. One more sweater probably wouldn't make much of a difference. Harry always said Dudley had been large for his age as a child, and it would probably hold true for Ron Dursley as well. She guessed the sweater would be a perfect fit.

Susan gave the sweater a questioning look. Hermione replied happily, "Well, it's just my way of congratulating him, since we didn't go to the baby shower or anything."

Then, with Harry, Ron, and Hermione holding on to Susan, the four of them vanished with a pop.

* * *

The four witches and wizards reappeared in the stark white hospital room, making Petunia and Dudley jump. Millicent looked as at peace as ever. She was used to sudden reappearances and disappearances by now. However, after taking a second or two to recover from his shock at the four people absent one moment and present the next, Dudley stood up shakily.

"Hello Harry. I see you've been celebrating."

Surely, Harry was a little flushed from all the toasting and champagne at the party. He turned even redder with this statement.

"Yeah. I started with just one glass, but the drinks just kept pouring and pouring. Good thing I have high alcohol tolerance, then." He chuckled nervously. "So… congratulations on the kid. When do we leave for Little Whinging?"

There were footsteps in the hallway. Petunia suddenly looked nervous.

"Do you have a car, Harry?" She whispered.

"Well, I don't use it much, but yes, I do have a car."

"I think it would be better if you lot…did whatever little bit of unnaturalness you did and reappeared back at your own house, then drove to ours. It would be a lot less suspicious that way."

Harry found it very interesting that Petunia still had a little trouble accepting magic, when she seemed to be perfectly okay with the fact that her very own grandson would be a wizard. But still, she had held on to her feelings for wand-work since her childhood. Maybe changing would take longer than he expected. But at least things didn't stay the same. That would be even more unsettling.

"My car's parked halfway across the country, so it might take a while. You'd be expecting us late tomorrow morning, and that's if I drive all night. Maybe we should take the Knight Bus."

"Oh, you know how bad the traffic is these days. You might as well drive if you plan to take a bus. And I heard the night buses aren't very clean…"

"No, Aunt Petunia---" Harry was about to tell her that he meant a Wizarding bus, but she cut him off.

"How about you…reappear in Ms. Figg's house? I heard some men in those great black billowing cloaks that your lot wears tried to raid her house a few months after you left us. So she's a witch, too?"

Harry remembered when the Death Eaters had tried to raid all the Order members' houses at one point during the early days of the war.

"No. She's a Squib."

"Harry. I may not know much about magic, but I'm positive she's not a stick of dynamite." Petunia had no idea how she remembered that from her school days, but she recalled a troublemaker had put a Chinese squib in the fireplace in the boys' dorm, causing an very vivid explosion.

"No. "Squib" is a term for a person with magical parents, but can't perform magic themselves."

Petunia felt a pang of sympathy. She had always thought she was the unlucky one…to be living in a family with a witch for a sister and parents who absolutely adored Lily because of what she could do. But she just couldn't imagine how difficult it would be for a Squib girl to grow up in a family full of witches and wizards.

"Oh, how awful! Well, I'm sure she won't mind helping us out. Dudley," She looked at Dudley pointedly. "Will drive us back to Little Whinging, and I'll inform Ms. Figg. Of course, I'll ask politely, and I'll probably have to return her a favor for this, but I'm sure she won't deny us a little convenience."

"Of course not." Harry remembered how Arabella Figg had been a loyal member of the former Order of the Phoenix. Of course, the Order had dissolved itself based on mutual agreement after the war was won, as the Dark days were over, and its goals had been accomplished.

"So, how about you reappear back in your house, wait about half an hour, and then disappear and reappear in her house, so no one sees. If you make a big noise, as there's four of you, it'd probably pass off as one of her cats breaking another piece of china. They've been rather ill tempered lately. To think that they managed to shatter the vase I sent her for Christmas the day after she received it. At least I didn't get her anything antique or too pleasant looking, or it truly would have been a loss."

Harry forced down a laugh, recalling the letter that his mum had written to his godfather, Sirius, so many years ago. Petunia had sent his mother an ugly vase for Christmas that Harry shattered when he crashed into it with his toy broomstick. He had a feeling that Ms. Figg was not all downhearted at the demolition of her vase either.

Dudley interrupted his thoughts.

"Well, we should get moving, then. I bet the doctors outside are getting suspicious at hearing so many voices in a room containing only three people and a newborn baby."


End file.
